Chapter II: Introduction (2)

If this friend doth so many deeds of good,
The impulse thereunto lies in herself
And her warm-hearted nature, not in thought.
Most certainly 'tis necessary for man,
Whene'er he hath accomplished any work,
To find foundation for it in ideas.
But yet 'tis only schooling of man's will
In harmony with all his skill and power
To undertake some real work in life
Which will help forward all the human race.
When whirr of busy wheels sounds in mine ears,
Or when I see some creaking windlass drawn
By strong stout hands of men content to work,
Then do I sense indeed the powers of Life.

GERMANUS:

Often in careless speech have I maintained
That I preferred things droll and humorous
And held these only full of wit and charm,
Deeming that for my brain at any rate,
They always would provide material
Best fitted to fill up the time that lies
Between my recreation and my work.
But now quite tasteless to me seem such things;
The Power Invisible hath conquered me;
And I have learned to feel that there may be
More powerful forces in humanity,
Than all our wit's frail castles in the air.

CAPESIUS:

And did it seem that nowhere else but here
'Twas possible to find such spirit-powers?

GERMANUS:

Indeed the life I lived did offer me
Full many a type of intellectual works:
Yet cared I not to pluck or taste their fruit.
But this strange mode of thought which blossoms here
Seemed to attract and draw me to itself
However little I desired to come.

CAPESIUS:

Most pleasant hath this hour of converse been,
And we are debtors to our hostess here.

(Exeunt all, except Maria and Johannes.)

JOHANNES:

Oh, stay a little while yet by my side,
I am afraid:--so desperately afraid:--

MARIA:

What is it aileth thee, my friend? Speak forth.

JOHANNES:

The first cause was our leader's speech; and then
The chequered converse of these people here.
It all hath moved and stirred me through and through.

MARIA:

But how could simple speeches such as these
Seize on thine heart with such intensity?

JOHANNES:

Each word seemed in that moment unto me
A dreadful symbol of our nothingness.

MARIA:

Indeed it was significant to see
Pour forth in such short time so many kinds
Of life and man's conflicting tendencies,
In all the speeches that we lately heard.
Yet 'tis indeed a most peculiar trait
Of life, as it is lived amongst us here,
To bring to speech the inner mind of man;
And much that otherwise comes slowly forth,
Stands here revealed in little space of time.

JOHANNES:

A mirrored picture 'twas of fullest life
That showed me to myself in clearest lines:
This spirit-revelation makes me feel
That most of us protect and train one trait
And one alone in all our character,
Which thus persuades itself it is the whole.
I sought to unify these many traits
In mine own self and boldly trod the path
Which here is shown, to lead unto that goal;
And it hath made of me a nothingness.
Keenly I feel what all these others lack,
And yet I sense as keenly that they all
Have actual part in life itself, whilst I
Stand but on unsubstantial nothingness.
It seemed whole lines of life ran into one
Significant in those brief speeches here.
But then mine own life's portrait also rose
And stood forth vividly within my soul.
The days of childhood first were painted there,
With all its fulness and its joy in life:
Then came the picture of my youthful prime
With that proud hopefulness in parent-hearts
Awakened by the talents of their son.
Then dreams concerning my career in art,
Which formed life's all in those old happy days,
Surged up from out my spirit's inmost depths
Exhorting to fulfil my cherished hopes;
And then those dreams in which thyself didst see
How I translated into coloured form
The spirit-life that liveth in thy soul.

Then saw I tongues of fire spring up and lick
Around my youthful dreams and artist hopes,
Reducing all to dust and nothingness.
Thereafter rose another pictured form
From out that drear and dreadful nothingness--
A human form, which once had linked its fate
In faithful love with mine in days long past.
She sought to hold me by her when I turned
Long years ago unto my home again,
Called to attend my mother's funeral rites.
I heeded not, but tore myself away.
For mighty was the power that drew me here
To this thy circle and the goals of life
Which here are set before our eager gaze.
In those dark days I felt no sense of guilt
When I did rend in twain the bond of love,
That was unto another soul its life.
Nor later when the message came to me
How that her life did slowly pine away,
And finally was altogether quenched
Did I feel aught of guilt until today;
But full of meaning were those recent words
In yonder chamber which our leader spake;
How that we may destroy by power misused
And perverse thought the destiny of those
Whom bonds of loving trust link to our souls.
Ah, hideously these words again resound
Out of the picture, thence re-echoing
With ghastly repetition from all sides:
'Her murderer thou art! her hast thou slain!'
Thus whilst this weighty speech hath been for all
The motive to probe deep within themselves,
Within my heart it hath brought forth alone
The consciousness of this most grievous guilt.
By this new means of sight I can perceive
How far astray my striving footsteps erred.

MARIA:

And at this moment, friend, in dark domains
Thou walkest, and none else can help thee there,
Save he, in whom we all do put our trust.

(Maria is called away; re-enter Helena.)

HELENA:

I feel constrained to linger by thy side
A little while; since now for many weeks
Thy gaze hath held so much of grief and care.
How can the light, which streams so radiantly
Bring gloom unto thy soul, which only strives
With utmost strength to seek and know the truth?

JOHANNES:

Hath then this light brought naught but joy to thee?

HELENA:

Not the same joy as that which once I knew,
But that new joy which springeth from those words,
Through which the spirit doth reveal itself.

JOHANNES:

Natheless I tell thee that the self-same power,
Which doth in thee create, can also crush.

HELENA:

Some error must have crept into thy soul
With cunning tread, if this be possible;
And if dull care instead of happiness,
And moods of sorrow flow forth from the source
Of truth itself instead of spirit-bliss
In free abundance: seek then in thyself
The stumbling-blocks that thus impede thy way.
How often are we told that only health
Is the true fruitage of our teaching here,
Which makes to blossom forth the powers of life.
Shall it then show the contrary in thee?
I see its fruitage in so many lives,
Which, trusting me, find union in themselves.
Their former mode of life grows day by day
Strange and still stranger to such souls as these;
As well-springs are fresh opened in their hearts,
Thenceforth renewing life within themselves.
To gaze into the primal depths of being
Doth not create those passionate desires
Which torture and torment the souls of men.

(Exit.)

JOHANNES.JOHANNES:

It took me many years to understand
And know the vanity of things of sense
When spirit-knowledge is not joined with them
In close and intimate companionship:
And yet one single moment proves to me
That e'en the highest wisdom's words may be
But vanity of soul in man's own self.

Curtain

SCENE 2

In the open. Rocks and springs. The entire scene is to be thought of as taking place in the soul of Johannes Thomasius. What follows is the content of his meditation.

(There sounds from the springs and rocks:)

Know thou thyself, O man.

JOHANNES:

'Tis thus I hear them, now these many years,
These words of weighty import all around,
(hear them in the wind and in the wave:
Out from earth's depths do they resound to me:
And as a tiny acorn's mystery,
Confines the structure of a mighty oak,
So in the kernel of these words there lies,
All elemental nature; all I grasp
Of soul, of spirit, time, eternity.
It seems mine own peculiarities
And all the world besides live in these words:
'Know thou thyself, O man. Know thou thyself.'

(From the springs and rocks resounds:)

Know thou thyself, O man.

JOHANNES:

And now--I feel
Mine inmost being terrified to life:
Without the gloom of night doth weave me round,
And deep within my soul thick darkness yawns:
And sounding from this universal gloom
And up from out the darkness of my soul
These words ring forth: 'Know thou thyself, O man.'

(From the springs and rocks resounds:)

Know thou thyself, O man.

JOHANNES:

It robs me of my very self: I change
Each hour of day, and am transformed by night.
The earth I follow on its cosmic course:
I seem to rumble in the thunder's peal,
And flash adown the lightning's fierce-forked tongue--
I AM.--Alas, already do I feel
Mine own existence snatched away from me.
I see what was my former carnal shape,
As some strange being, quite outside myself,
And infinitely far away from me.
But now another body hovers near,
And through its mouth I am compelled to speak:--
'Ah, bitter sorrow hath he brought to me;
So utterly I trusted him of old.
He left me lonely with my sorrow's pain,
He robbed me of the very warmth of life,
And thrust me deep beneath the chill, cold ground.'
Poor soul, 'tis she I left, and leaving her
It was in truth mine own self that I left;
And I must suffer all her pain and woe.
For knowledge hath endowed me with the power
Myself into another's self to fuse.
Ah me! Ye quench again by your own power
The light of inner knowledge ye have brought,
Ye cruel words, 'Know thou thyself, O man.'

(From the springs and rocks resounds:)

Know thou thyself, O man.

JOHANNES:

Ye lead me back again within the sphere
Of mine own being's former fantasies.
Yet in what shape know I myself again!
My human form is lost and gone from me;
Like some fierce dragon do I see myself;
Begotten out of primal lust and greed.
And clearly do I see how up till now
Some dim deluding veil of phantom forms
Hath hid from me mine own monstrosity.
Mine own self's fierceness must devour my Self.
And through my veins run like consuming fire
Those words, that once with elemental force
Revealed the core of suns and earths to me.
They throb within my pulse, beat in mine heart;
And even in mine inmost thoughts I feel
Strange worlds e'en now blaze forth like passions fierce.
They are the fruitage of these very words:
'Know thou thyself, O man. Know thou thyself,'

(From the springs and rocks resounds:)

Know thou thyself, O man.

JOHANNES:

There,--from that dark abyss, what creature glares?
I feel the chains that hold me chained to thee.
So fast was not Prometheus rivetted
Upon the naked rocks of Caucasus,
As I am rivetted and forged to thee--
Who art thou, fearful, execrable shape?

(From the springs and rocks resounds:)

Know thou thyself, O man.

JOHANNES:

Oh yea, I know thee; for thou art myself:
Knowledge doth chain to thee, pernicious beast,

(Enter Maria unnoticed by Johannes.)

Chain mine own self to thee, pernicious beast.
I willed to flee from thee; but I was blind,
Blinded by glamour of the worlds, whereto
My folly fled to free me from myself;
And now once more within my sightless soul
Blind through these words: 'Know thou thyself, O man.'

(From the springs and rocks resounds:)

Know thou thyself, O man.

JOHANNES: (As though coming to himself, sees Maria. The meditation passes to the plane of inner reality.)

Thou here, my friend?

MARIA:

I sought thee, friend, although I know full well
How comforting to thee is solitude,
When many varying thoughts of many men
Have flooded o'er thy soul. I also know
I cannot by my presence help my friend
In this dark hour of strife--yet yearnings vague
Drive me in this same moment unto thee;
When Benedictus' words, instead of light,
Such grievous sorrow drew from thy soul's depths.

JOHANNES:

How comforting to me is solitude!

Yea, I have sought to find myself therein,
So often when to labyrinths of thought
The joys and griefs of men had driven me.
But now, O friend, that, too, is past and gone.
What Benedictus' words at first aroused
Within my soul, and all that I lived through
When listening to the speeches of those men,
Seems but indeed a little thing, when I
Compare therewith the storm that solitude
With sullen brooding hath brought forth in me.
Ah me! when I recall this solitude!
It hounded me into the voids of space,
And tore me from my very self in two.
Within that soul to whom I brought such pain
I stood, as though I were some other man.
And there I had to suffer all the pain
Of which I was myself the primal cause.
Ah cruel, sombre, fearful solitude
Thou giv'st me back unto myself indeed,
Yet but to terrify me with the sight
Of mine own nature's fathomless abyss.
Man's final refuge hath been lost to me:
I have been robbed of solitude itself.

MARIA:

I must repeat what I have said before.
Alone can Benedictus succour thee;
Only from him may we obtain support
And that firm basis which we both do lack.
For know thou this: I also can no more
Endure the riddle of my life, unless
His gentle guidance solveth it for me.
Full often have I kept before mine eyes
This truth sublime, that o'er all life doth float
Appearance and deception if we grasp
Life's surface only in our moods of thought.
And o'er and o'er again it spake to me:
Thou must take knowledge how illusion's veil
Weaves all around thee; and however oft
It may appear to thee as truth, beware;
For evil fruitage may in truth arise
If thou shouldst try within another's soul
To wake the light that lives within thyself.
Yet in the best part of my soul I know
That even this oppressive weight of care
Which hath o'erwhelmed thy soul, dear friend of mine,
As thou didst tread with me the path of life,
Is part and parcel of the thorny way,
That leads unto the light of Truth itself.
Thou must live through each horror and alarm
That can spring forth from vain imagining
Before the Truth in essence stands revealed.
Thus speaks thy star; and by that same star speech
It doth appear to me that we shall walk
One day united, on the spirit-paths.
And yet whene'er I seek to tread these paths
Black night doth spread a curtain round my sight.
And many things that I must live and do,
Which spring as fruitage from my character,
Intensify the darkness of that night.
We two must seek clear vision in that light,
Which, though it vanish for a while from sight,
Can never be extinguished in the soul.

JOHANNES:

But then, Maria, dost thou realize
Through what my soul hath fought its way but now?
A grievous destiny awaiteth thee,
Most noble friend. For well I know that far
From thy pure nature lies that potent force,
That hath so wholly shattered me to bits.
Thou canst ascend the clearest heights of truth,
And scan with steadfast gaze life's tangled path;
And whether in the darkness or the light
Thou wilt retain thine own identity.
But me each moment may deprive of Self.
Deep down I had to dive within the hearts
Of those who late revealed themselves in speech.
I followed one to cloistered solitude,--
And in another's soul I listened to
Felicia's fairy lore. I was each one;
Only unto myself I seemed as dead;
For I must fain believe that primal life
Did spring from very Nothingness itself,
If it were right to entertain the hope,
That out of that dread nothingness in me
A human being ever could arise.
For I am driven from fear into the dark
And from the darkness back again to fear
By wisdom stored within these living words:
'Know thou thyself, O man. Know thou thyself.'

(From the springs and rocks the words resound:)

Know thou thyself, O man.

Curtain

SCENE 3

A room for meditation. The background is a great purple curtain. The scene is purple in colour with a large yellow pentagonal lamp suspended from the ceiling. No other furniture or ornaments are in the room except the lamp and one chair. Benedictus, Johannes, Maria, and a child.

MARIA:

I bring to thee this child who needs some word
From out thy mouth.

BENEDICTUS:

My child, henceforth each eve
Thou shalt come unto me to hear the word
That shall fill full thy soul ere thou dost tread
The realm of souls in sleep. Wilt thou do this?

CHILD:

Most gladly will I come.

BENEDICTUS:

This very eve
Fill thy soul full ere sleep embraceth thee,
With strength from these few words: 'The powers of light
Bear me aloft unto the spirit's home.'

(Maria leads the child away.)

MARIA:

And now, that this child's destiny doth flow
Harmoniously through future days beneath
The shadow of thy gracious fatherhood,
I too may claim my leader's kind advice,
Who am its mother, not by bond of blood
But through the mighty power of destiny.
For thou hast shown to me the way wherein
I had to guide its footsteps from that day,
When I discovered it before my door
Left by its unknown mother desolate.
And wonder-working proved themselves those rules
Whereby thou madest me train my foster-child.
All powers, that deep in body and in soul
Lay hidden, issued forth to light and life:
Clear proof it was that all thy counselling
Sprang from the realm which sheltered this child's soul
Before it built its body's covering.
We saw the hopes of manhood blossom forth
And radiate more brightly each new day;
Thou dost know well how hard it was for me
To gain the child's affection, at the first.
It grew up 'neath my care, and yet nought else
Save habit chained its soul at first to mine.
It only realized and felt that I
Gave it the nurture and the food that served
The needs of body and the growth of soul.
Then came the time when in the child-like heart
There dawned the love for her who fostered it.
An outer incident brought forth this change--
The visit of the seeress to our group.
Gladly the child did go about with her
And soon did learn full many a beauteous word
Steeped in the mystic charm that graced her speech.
Then came the moment when her ecstasy
Descended on our friend with magic power.
The child could see her eyes' strange smouldering light,
And, terrified unto its vital core,
The young soul dawned to consciousness of self.

In her dismay she fled unto mine arms;
And from that hour did grow her love for me.
Since that same time she doth accept from me
The gifts of life with her full consciousness
Not with blind instinct: aye, and since that day
When this young heart first quivered into warmth,
Whene'er her gaze met mine with loving glance,
Thy wisdom's treasures of their fruitage failed,
And much already ripe hath withered up.
I saw appear in her those tokens strange
That proved so terrible unto my friend.

A dark enigma am I to myself,
And grow still darker. Thou wilt not deny
To solve for me life's fearful questionings?
Why do I thus destroy both friend and child,
When I in love approach my work with them
To give them knowledge of that spirit-lore
Which in my soul I know to be the good?
Oft hast thou taught me this exalted truth--
'Illusion's veil o'erspreads life's surfaces'--
Yet must I see with greater clarity
Why I must bear this heavy destiny,
That seems so cruel and which works such harm.

BENEDICTUS:

Within our circle there is formed a knot
Of threads that Karma spins world-fashioning.
Thy sufferings, my friend are links in chains,
Forged by the hand of destiny, whereby
The deeds of gods unite with human lives.--

When in life's pilgrimage I had attained
That rank which granted me the dignity
To serve with counsel in the spirit-spheres,
A godlike Being did draw nigh to me,
Who would descend into the realms of earth,
And dwell there, veiled in form of flesh, as man.
For just at this one turning-point of time
The Karma of mankind made this demand.
For each great step in world-development
Is only possible when gods do stoop
To link themselves with human destiny.
And this new spirit-sight that needs must grow
And germinate henceforth in souls of men
Can only be unfolded when a god
Doth plant the seed within some human heart.
My task it was to find that human soul
Which worthy seemed to take within itself
The powerful Seed of God. I had to join
The deed of heaven to some human lot.
My spirit's eye then sought, and fell on thee.
Thy course of life had fitted thee to be
The mediator in salvation's work.
Through many former lives thou hadst acquired
Receptiveness for all the greatest things
That human hearts can e'er experience.
Within thy tender soul thou didst bring forth,
As spirit heritage, the noble gift
Of beauty, joined to virtue's loftiest claim:
And that which thine eternal Self had formed
And brought to being through thy birth on earth
Did reach ripe fruitage when thy years were few.--
Too soon thou didst not scale steep spirit-heights;
Nor grew thy yearning for the spirit-land
Before thou hadst the full enjoyment known
Of harmless pleasures in the world of sense.
Anger and love thy soul did learn to know
When thy thoughts dwelt yet far from spirit-life.
Nature in all her beauty to enjoy,
And pluck the fruits of art,--these didst thou strive
To make thy life's sole content and its wealth.
Merry thy laughter, as a child can laugh
Who hath not known as yet life's shadowed fears.
And thus thou learn'dst to understand life's joy,
And mourn its sadness, each in its own time,
Before thy dawning conscience grew to seek
Of sorrow and of happiness the cause.
A ripened fruit of many lives that soul,
That enters earth's domains, and shows such moods.
Its childlike nature is the blossoming
And not the ground-root of its character.
And such a soul alone was I to choose
As mediator for the God, who sought
The power to work within our human world.
And now thou learnest that thy nature must
Transform itself into its opposite,
When it flows forth to other human souls.
The spirit in thee ripens whatsoe'er
In human nature can attain the realm
Of vast eternity; and much it slays
That is but part of transitory realms.
And yet the sacrifices of such deaths
Are but the seeds of immortality,
All that which blossoms forth from death below
Must grow unto the higher life above.

MARIA:

E'en so it is with me. Thou giv'st me light:
But light that doth deprive me of my sight,
And sunder me from mine own self in twain.
Then do I seem some spirit's instrument
No longer master of myself. No more
Do I endure that erstwhile form of mine
Which only is a mask and not the truth.

JOHANNES:

O friend, what ails thee? Vanished is the light
That filled thine eye: as marble is thy frame.
I grasp thine hand and find it cold as death.

BENEDICTUS:

My son, full many trials have come to thee;
And now thou stand'st before life's hardest test.
Thou seest the carnal covering of thy friend;
But her true self doth float in spirit-spheres
Before mine eyes.

JOHANNES:

See! Her lips move; she speaks.

MARIA:

Thou gav'st me clearness; yet this clearness throws
A veil of darkness round on every side.
I curse thy clearness; and I curse thee too,
Who didst make tool of me for weird wild arts
Whereby thou willedst to deceive mankind.
No doubt at any moment hitherto
Had crossed my mind of heights thy spirit reached;
But now one single moment doth suffice
To tear all faith in thee from out my heart.
Those spirit-beings thou art subject to,
I now must recognize as hellish fiends.
Others I had to mislead and deceive
Because at first I was deceived by thee.--
But I will flee unto dim distances,
Where not a sound of thee shall reach mine ears;
Yet near enough that thy soul may be reached
By bitter curses framed by these my lips.
For thou didst rob my blood of all its fire,
That thou mightst sacrifice to thy false god
That which was rightly mine and mine alone.
But now this same blood's fire shall thee consume.
Thou madest me trust in vain imaginings;
And that this might be so, thou first didst make
A pictured falsehood of my very self.
Often had I to mark how in my soul
Each deed and thought turned to its opposite;
So now doth turn what once was love for thee,
Into the fire of wild and bitter hate.
Through all worlds will I seek to find that fire
Which can consume thee. See--I cur--Ah--woe!

JOHANNES:

Who speaketh here? I do not see my friend.
I hear instead some gruesome being speak.

BENEDICTUS:

Thy friend's soul hovers in the heights above.
Only her mortal image hath she left
Here with us: and where'er a human form
Is found bereft of soul, there is the room
Sought by the enemy, the foe of good,
To enter into realms perceptible,
And find some carnal form through which to speak.
Just such an adversary spake e'en now,
Who would destroy the work imposed on me
For thee, my son, and millions yet unborn.
Were I to deem these wild anathemas,
Which our friend's shell did utter here and now,
Aught else but some grim tempter's cunning skill,
Thou durst not follow more my leadership.
The enemy of Good stood by my side,
And thou hast seen into the darkness plunged
All that is temporal of that dear form,
For whom, my son, thy whole love burns and glows.
Since through her mouth spirits spake oft to thee,
The Karma of the world could not restrain
Hell's princes also speaking thus through her.
First now thou mayst seek her very soul
And learn her nature's inmost verity;
For she shall form for thee the prototype
Of that new higher type of humankind
To which thou dost aspire to raise thyself.
Her soul hath soared aloft to spirit-heights,
Where every man may find his being's source
Which springs to life and fulness in himself.
Thou too shalt follow her to spirit-realms,
And see her in the Temple of the Sun.--
Within this circle there is formed a knot
Of threads which Karma spins, world fashioning.
My son, since thou hast now attained thus far,
Thou shalt still further pierce beyond the veil.
I see thy star in fullest splendour shine.
There is no place within the realm of sense
For strife, such as men wage when they do strive
And struggle after consecration's gift.
The riddles which arise in worlds of sense
Must find solution through man's intellect;
From all that sense engenders in man's heart
Whether of love or hate, whate'er its source
And howsoever direful its results,
The spirit-seeker needs must stand aloof,
Whence he may cast his glance all undisturbed
Upon the fields where such contentions rage.
For him must other powers unfold themselves
Which are not found upon that field of strife.
So didst thou need to fight to prove thy soul
In combat such as comes to him alone,
Who finds himself accoutred for such powers
As do belong unto the spirit-worlds.
And had these powers found thee not ripe enough
To tread the path of knowledge, they needs must
Have maimed thy powers of feeling, ere thou daredst
To know all that which now is known to thee.
The Beings, who can gaze into world-depths,
Lead on those men, who would attain the heights,
First to that summit whence it may be shown
Whether there lies in them the power to reach
To conscious sight within the spirit-realms.
And those in whom such powers are found to lie
Are straightway from the world of sense set free.
The others all must wait their season due.
But thou, thou hast preserved thy Self, my son,
When Powers on high stirred to its depths thy soul.
And potent spirits shrouded thee with fear.
Right powerfully thy Self hath fought its way
E'en though thy very heart was torn by doubts,
That willed to thrust thee into darksome depths.
True pupil of my teaching hast thou been,
First since that hour, so fraught with fate for thee,
When thou didst learn to doubt thy very self,
And gavest up thyself as wholly lost,
But yet the strength within thee held thee fast.
Then might I give thee of my treasured store
Of wisdom, whence to draw the strength to stand
Assured, e'en when mistrusting thine own self.
Such was the wisdom which thou didst attain
More steadfast than the faith once given to thee.
Ripe wast thou found, and thou may'st be set free.
Thy friend hath gone before and waits for thee
In spirit-worlds, and thou shalt find her there.
I can but add this guidance for thee now:
Kindle the full power of thy soul with words
Which through my lips shall grant to thee the key
To spirit-heights, and they will lead thee on
When naught else leads, that eyes of sense can see.
Receive them in the fulness of thy heart:
'The weaving essence of the light streams forth
Through depths of space to fill the world with light;
Love's grace doth warm the centuries of time
To call forth revelation of all worlds.
And spirit-messengers come forth to wed
The weaving essence of creative light
With revelation of the souls of men:
And that man, who can wed to both of these
His very Self, he lives in spirit-heights.'
O spirits, who are visible to man,
Quicken with life the soul of this our son:
From inmost depths may there stream forth for him
That which can fill his soul with spirit-light.
From inmost depths may there resound for him
That which can wholly wake in him his Self
To the creative joy of spirit-life.

A SPIRIT-VOICE BEHIND THE STAGE:

To founts of worlds primeval
His surging thoughts do mount;--
What as shadow he hath thought
What as fancy he hath lived
Soars up beyond the world of form and shape;
On whose fulness pondering
Mankind in shadow dreams,
O'er whose fulness gazing forth
Mankind in fancy lives.

Curtain

SCENE 4

A landscape, which seeks to express the world of souls by its characteristic peculiarities.

Enter Lucifer and Ahriman. Johannes is seen at the right of the stage in deep meditation. What follows is experienced by him in meditation.

LUCIFER:

O man, know thou thyself; O man, feel me.
From spirit guidance, thou hast freed thyself,
And into earth's free realms thou hast escaped.
Midst earth's confusion thou didst seek to prove
Thine own existence; and to find thyself
Was thy reward, and was thy destiny.
Me didst thou find: for certain spirits willed
To cast a veil before the eyes of sense;
Which veil I rent in twain. Those spirits willed
To follow out their own desires in thee;
But I gave thee self-will and foiled their aim.
O man, know thou thyself; O man, feel me.

AHRIMAN:

O man, know me; O man, feel thou thyself.
Thou hast escaped from darkened spirit-realms
And thou hast found again the earth's pure light,
So now from my sure ground drink strength and truth.
I make earth hard and fast. The spirits willed
To snatch away from thee the charm of sense;
Which charm I weave for thee in light condensed.
I lead thee unto true reality.
O man, know me; O man, feel thou thyself.

LUCIFER:

Time was not when thou didst not live through me.
I followed thee throughout the course of life,
And was permitted to bestow on thee
Strong personal traits and joy in thine own self.

AHRIMAN:

Time was not when thou didst not me behold.
Thy mortal eyes saw me in all earth's growth;
I was permitted to shine forth for thee
In beauty proud and revelation's bliss.

JOHANNES (to himself in meditation):

This is the sign as Benedictus told.
Before the world of souls stand these two powers:
The one, as Tempter, lives within the soul;
The other doth obscure the sight of man
When he directeth it to outward things.
The one took on the woman's form e'en now,
To bring the soul's illusions 'neath my gaze;
The other may be found in everything.

(Enter the Spirit of the Elements with Capesius and Strader, whom he has brought to the earth's surface from the earth's depths. They are conceived as souls looking out upon the earth's surface. The Spirit of the Elements is aged and stands erect upon a sphere. Capesius and Strader are in astral garb; the former, though the older man of the two in years, here appears the younger. He wears blue robes of various shades, Strader wears brown and yellow.)

SPIRIT:

So have ye reached the spot ye longed to find.
It proved indeed a heavy care to me,
To grant your wish. Spirits and elements
Did rage in mad wild storm when their domain
I had to enter with your essences.
Your minds opposed the ruling of my powers.

CAPESIUS:

Mysterious Being, who art thou, who hast
Brought me to this fair realm through spirit-spheres?

SPIRIT:

The soul of man may only look on me,
Whene'er the service which I render it
Hath been achieved. Then may it trace my powers
Through all the moving sequences of time.

CAPESIUS:

It matters little to me to enquire
What spirit led me hither to this place.
I feel life's powers revive in this new land,
Whose light doth seem to widen mine own breast;
In my pulse-beat I feel the whole world's might;
And premonitions of exalted deeds
Thrill in my heart. I will translate in words
The revelation of this beauteous realm,
That hath refreshed me in such wondrous wise;
And souls of men shall bloom, as choicest flowers
If I can pour into their life on earth
The inspiration flowing from these founts.

(Lightning and thunder from the depths and heights.)

STRADER:

Why quake the depths, and why resound the heights?
When hope's young dreams surge upward in the soul?

(Lightning and thunder.)

SPIRIT:

To human dreamers words of hope like these
Sound proud indeed; but in the depths of earth
The vain illusions of mistaken thought
Awake such thunderous echoes evermore.
Ye mortals hear them only at those times
When ye draw nigh to my domain. Ye think
To build exalted temples unto Truth,
And yet your work's effects do but unchain
Storm-spirits in primeval depths of earth.
Nay more, the spirits must destroy whole worlds,
That deeds ye do in realms where time hath sway
May not cause devastation and cold death
Through all the ages of eternity.

STRADER:

So these eternal ages must regard
As empty fantasy what seems the truth
To man's best observation and research.

(Lightning and thunder.)

SPIRIT:

An empty fantasy, so long as sense
Doth only search in realms to spirit strange.

STRADER:

Thou may'st well call a dreamer that friend's soul
Which in the joy of youth its goal doth set
With such a noble strength and high desire;
But in mine aged heart thy words fall dead
Despite their summoned aid of thunderous storms.
I tore myself from cloistered quietude
To proud achievement in my search for truth.
In life's storm-centres many a year I stood,
And men had confidence in me, and what
I taught them through my deep strong sense for truth.

(Lightning and thunder.)

SPIRIT:

'Tis fitting for thee to confess that none
Can tell whence stream the fountains of our thought,
Nor where the fundaments of Being lie.

STRADER:

Oh this same speech, which in youth's hopeful days
So oft with chill persistence pierced my soul
When thought-foundations quaked, which once seemed firm!

(Lightning and thunder.)

SPIRIT:

If thou dost fail to gain the victory
O'er me with those blunt weapons of thy thought
Thou art a fleeting phantom, nothing more,
Formed by thine own deluded imagery.

STRADER:

So soon again such gruesome speech from thee!
This too I heard before in mine own soul,
When once a seeress threateningly did wish
To wreck the firm foundations of my thought
And make me feel the sharp dread sting of doubt.
But that is past, and I defy thy might,
Thou aged rogue, so cunningly concealed
Beneath a mask devised by thine own self
To counterfeit the form of nature's lord.
Reason will overthrow thee, otherwise
Than thou dost think, when once she is enthroned
Upon the proud heights of the mind of man.
As mistress will she reign assuredly
Not as some handmaiden in nature's realm.

SPIRIT:

The world is ordered so, that every act
Requires a like reaction: unto you
I gave the self; ye owe me my reward.

CAPESIUS:

I will myself create from mine own soul
The spirit counterpart of things of sense.
And when at length all nature stands transformed,
Idealized through man's creative work,
Her mirrored form shall be reward enough;
And then if thou dost feel thyself akin
To that great mother of all worlds, and spring'st
From depths where world-creating forces reign.
Then let my will, which lives in head and breast,
Inspiring me to aim at highest goals,
Be thy reward for deeds done at my best.
Thy help hath raised me from dull sentiment
To thought's proud heights--Let this be thy reward!

(Lightning and thunder.)

SPIRIT:

Ye well can see, how little your bold words
Bear weight in my domain: they do but loose
The storm, and rouse the elements to wrath,
Fierce adversaries of the ordered world.

CAPESIUS:

Take then thine own reward where't may be found.
The impulse that doth drive the souls of men
To seek true spirit-heights within themselves
Set their own measure, their own order make.
Creation were not possible for man
If others wished to claim what he had made.
The song that trills from out the linnet's throat
Sufficeth for itself; and so doth man
Find his reward, when in his fashioning work
He doth experience creative joy.

(Lightning and thunder.)

SPIRIT:

It is not meet to grudge me my reward.
If ye yourselves cannot repay the debt
Then tell the woman, who endowed your souls
With power, that she must pay instead of you.

(Exit.)

CAPESIUS:

He hath departed. Whither turn we now?
To find our way aright in these new worlds
Must be, it seems, the first care of our minds.

STRADER:

To follow confidently the best way,
That we can find, with sure but cautious tread,
Methinks should lead us straightway to the goal.

CAPESIUS:

Rather should we be silent as to goal.
That we shall find if we courageously
Obey the impulse of our inner self,
Which speaks thus to me: 'Let Truth be thy guide;
May it unfold strong powers within thyself
And mould them with the noblest fashioning
In all that thou shalt do; then must thy steps
Attain their destined goal, nor go astray.'

STRADER:

Yet from the outset it were best our steps
Should not lack consciousness of their true goal,
If we would be of service unto men
And give them happiness. He, who would serve
Himself alone, doth follow his own heart;
But he, who wills to serve his neighbour best,
Must surely know his life's necessities.

(The Other Maria, also in soul-form, emerges from the rocks, covered with precious stones.)

But see! What wondrous being's this? It seems
As though the rock itself did give it birth.
From what world-depths do such strange forms arise?

THE OTHER MARIA:

I wrest my way through solid rock, and fain
Would clothe in human speech its very will;
I sense earth's essence and with human brains
I fain would think the thoughts of Earth herself.
I breathe the purest airs of life, and shape
The powers of air to feel as doth mankind.

STRADER:

Then thou canst not assist us in our quest.
For far aloft from men's endeavour stands
All that which must abide in nature's realm.

CAPESIUS:

Lady, I like thy words, and I would fain
Translate thy form of speech into mine own.

THE OTHER MARIA:

Most strange doth seem to me your proud discourse.
For, when ye speak yourselves, unto mine ear
Your words do sound incomprehensible.
But if I let them echo in my heart
And issue in new form, they spread abroad
O'er all that lives in mine environment
And solve for me its hidden mystery.

CAPESIUS:

If this, thy speech, be true, then change for us
Into thy speech, that nature may respond,
The question of the true worth of our lives.
For we ourselves lack power to question thus
Great mother nature that we may be heard.

THE OTHER MARIA:

In me ye only see an humble maid
Of that high spirit-being, which doth dwell
In that domain whence ye have just now come.
There hath been given me this field of work
That here in lowliness I may show forth
Her mirrored image unto mortal sense.

CAPESIUS:

So then we have just fled from that domain
Wherein our longing could have been assuaged?

THE OTHER MARIA:

And if ye do not find again the way,
Your efforts shall be fruitless evermore.

CAPESIUS:

Then tell which way will lead us back again.

THE OTHER MARIA:

There are two ways. If my power doth attain
To its full height all creatures of my realm
Shall glow in beauty's most resplendent dress.
From rocks and water, glittering light shall stream,
And colours in their richest fulness flash
On all around, whilst life in merry mood
Shall fill the air with joyous harmony.
And if your souls do then but steep themselves
In mine own being's purest ecstasy
On spirit pinions shall ye wing your way
Unto primeval origins of worlds.

STRADER:

That is no way for us; for in our speech
We name such talk mere fancy, and we fain
Would seek firm ground, not fly to cloud-capped heights.

THE OTHER MARIA:

Then if ye wish to tread the other path
Ye must forthwith renounce your spirit's pride.
Ye must forget what reason doth command,
And let the touch of nature conquer you.
In your men's breasts let your child-soul have sway,
Artless and undisturbed by thought's dim shades.
So will ye surely reach Life's fountain-head,
Although unconscious of the way ye go.

(Exit.)

CAPESIUS:

Thus are we thrown back on ourselves alone,
And have but learned that it behoveth us
To work and wait in patience for the fruit
That future days shall ripen from our work.

JOHANNES (speaking, as it were, from his meditation. Here and in the following scene he sits aside and takes no part in the action):

So do I find within the soul's domain
Those men who are already known to me:
First he who told us of Felicia's tales,
Though here I saw him in his youthful prime;
And also he who in his younger days
Had chosen for his life monastic rule,
As some old man did he appear: with them
There stood the Spirit of the Elements.

Curtain

SCENE 5

A subterranean rock-temple: a hidden site of the Mysteries of the Hierophants.

At the right of the stage, Johannes is seen in deep meditation.

BENEDICTUS (in the East):

Ye, who have been companions unto me
In the domain of everlasting life,
Here in your midst I stand today to ask
The help of which I stand in need from you
To weave the thread of destiny for one,
Who from our midst must now receive the light.
Through bitter trials and sorrows hath he passed,
And hath in deepest agony of soul
Prepared the way to consecrate his life
And thus attain to knowledge of the truth.
Accomplished now the task assigned to me,
As spirit-messenger, to bring to men
The treasured wisdom of this temple's shrine.
And now, ye brethren, 'tis your sacred task
To bring my work to full accomplishment.
I showed to him the light that proved the guide
To his first vision of the spirit-world,
But that this vision may be turned to truth
Your work must needs be added unto mine.
My words proceed from mine own mouth alone,
But through your lips world-spirits do sound forth.

THEODOSIUS (in the South):

Thus speaks the power of love, which bindeth worlds
And filleth beings with the breath of life:--
Let warmth flow in his heart that he may grasp
How by the sacrificing of that vain
Illusion of his personality
He doth draw near the spirit of the world.
His sight from sleep of sense thou hast set free;
Love's warmth will wake the spirit in his soul:
His Self from carnal covering thou hast drawn;
And love itself will crystallize his soul
That it may be a mirror to reflect
All that doth happen in the spirit-world.
Love too will give him strength to feel himself
A spirit, and will fashion thus his ear
That it can hear and know the spirit-speech.

ROMANUS (in the West):

Nor are my words the revelation true
Of mine own self. Through me the world-will speaks.
And since thou hast thus raised unto the power
To live in spirit-realms the man to thee
Entrusted, now this power shall lead him forth
Beyond the bounds of space and ends of time.
To those realms shall he pass wherein do work
Creative spirits, who shall there reveal
Themselves to him; demanding from him deeds;
And willingly will he perform their work.
The purposes of Him who moulds the worlds
Shall fill his soul with life; there too the earth's
Primeval sources shall enspirit him;
World potencies shall there empower him;
The mights of spheres shall there enlighten him,
And rulers of the worlds fill him with fire.

RETARDUS (in the North):

From the foundation of the world ye have
Been forced to suffer me within your midst.
So must ye also to my words give ear
In your deliberations here today.
Some little time must surely yet elapse
Before ye can fulfil and bring to pass
What ye have set forth in such beauteous words.
No sign as yet hath come to us from earth
That she doth long for new initiates.
So long as this spot, where we council hold,
Hath not been trodden by the feet of those
Who, uninitiate still, cannot set free
Their spirit from realities of sense,
So long the task is mine to check your zeal.
First must they bring us message that the earth
Doth seem in need of revelations new.
For this cause hold I back your spirit-light
Within this temple, lest it may bring harm
Instead of health to souls that are not ripe.
Out of myself I give to man on earth
That faculty which lets the truths of sense
Appear to him the highest, just so long
As spirit wisdom would but blind his eyes.
Nay more, e'en such belief may also lead
Him nearer to the spirit, for the aims
Formed by his will may yet be guided right
Through his blind tastes and gropings in the dark.

ROMANUS:

From the foundation of the world we have
Been forced to suffer thee within our midst.
But now at length the time hath run its course
That was allotted to such work as thine.
The world-will in me feels that they approach--

(Felix Balde appears in his earthly shape: the Other Maria as a soul-form from out of the rock.)

--Who, uninitiated, can release
The spirit from the outward show of sense.
No more 'tis granted thee to check our steps.
They near our temple of their own free will
And bring to thee this message, that they wish
To help our spirit labours, joined with us.
They found themselves till now not yet prepared
For union, since they clung to that belief
That seership's power with reason needs must part.
Now have they learned whither mankind is led
By reason, which, when severed from true sight,
Doth err and wander in the depths of worlds.
They now will speak to thee of fruits which needs
Must ripen through thy power in human souls.

RETARDUS:

Ye, who unconsciously have forwarded
My work till now, ye shall still further help--
If ye will distant keep from all that doth
Belong unto my realm and that alone.
Then shall ye surely find a place reserved
For you to work as hitherto ye worked.

FELIX BALDE:

A power, which speaks from very depths of earth
Unto my spirit, hath commanded me
To come unto this consecrated place;
Since it desires to speak to you through me
Of all its bitter sorrow and its need.

BENEDICTUS:

My friend, then tell us now how thou hast learned
The woe of world-depths in thine own soul's core.

FELIX BALDE:

The light that shines in men as learning's fruit
Must needs give nourishment to all the powers
Which serve world-cycles in the earth's dark depths.
Already now a long time have they starved
Well-nigh entirely reft of sustenance.
For that which grows today in human brains
Doth only serve the surface of the earth,
And doth not penetrate unto its depths.
Some strange new superstition now doth haunt
These clever human heads: they turn their gaze
Unto primeval origins of earth
And will but spectres see in spirit spheres,
Thought out by vain illusion of the sense.
A merchant surely would consider mad
A purchaser, who would speak thus to him:
'The mists and fog, that hover in the vale,
Can certainly condense to solid gold;
And with such gold thou shalt be paid thy debt.'
The merchant will not willingly await
To have his ducats made from fog and mist;
And yet whene'er his soul doth thirst to find
Solution of the riddles set by life,
Should science offer him such payments then
For spirit needs and debts, right willingly
Will he accept whole solar systems built
Out of primeval world-containing fog.
The teacher who discovers some unknown
And luckless layman, who hath raised himself
To heights of science or of scholarship
Without examinations duly passed
Will surely threaten him with his contempt.
Yet science doth not doubt that without proof
And without spirit earth's primeval beasts
Could change themselves to men by their own power.

THEODOSIUS:

Why dost thou not thyself reveal to men
The sources of this light of thine, which streams
Forth from thy soul with such resplendent ray?

FELIX BALDE:

A fancy-monger and a man of dreams
They call me, who are well-disposed to me:
But others think of me as some dull fool
Who, all untaught of them, doth follow out
His own peculiar bent of foolishness.

RETARDUS:

Thou show'st already how untaught thou art
By the simplicity of this thy speech:
Thou dost not know that men of science have
Sufficient shrewdness to make just the same
Objection to themselves as unto thee.
And if they make it not they know well why.

FELIX BALDE:

I know full well that they are shrewd enough
To understand objections they have made,
But not so shrewd as to believe in them.

THEODOSIUS:

What must we do that we may forthwith give
The powers of earth what they do need so much?

FELIX BALDE:

So long as on the earth men only heed
Such men as these, who wish not to recall
Their spirit's primal source, so long will starve
The mineral forces buried in earth's depths.

THE OTHER MARIA:

I gather, brother Felix, from thy words,
That thou dost think the time hath now expired
When we did serve earth's purposes the best
Through wisdom's light, ourselves unconsecrate--
When we showed forth from roots in our own life
The living way of spirit and of love.
In thee the spirits of the earth arose
To give thee light without the lore of books:
In me did love hold sway, the love that dwells
And works within the life of men on earth.
And now we wish to join our brethren here,--
Who, consecrate, within this temple serve,--
And bring forth fruitful work in human souls.

BENEDICTUS:

If ye unite your labour now with us,
Then must the consecrated work succeed.
The wisdom which I gave unto my son
Will surely blossom forth in him as power.

THEODOSIUS:

If ye unite your labour now with us,
Then must the thirst for sacrifice arise.
And through the soul life of whoever seeks
The spirit-path, will breathe the warmth of love.

ROMANUS:

If ye unite your labour now with us,
Then must the fruits of spirit ripen fast.
Deeds will spring up, which through the spirit's work
Will blossom from your soul's discipleship.

RETARDUS: